


but we go on

by fantasy_spoilers8



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Poor Alex - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but don't worry he has john, non-binary Lafayette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 00:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasy_spoilers8/pseuds/fantasy_spoilers8
Summary: Alex has a panic attack in the middle of class.His students are convinced he's going into cardiac arrest.But all John can think about is getting to his fiancé before the storm rages out of his control.-Or, a reworking of "J'ai Pas Envie" by sightofthesun to be from different perspectives.





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sightofthesun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightofthesun/gifts).
  * Inspired by [J'ai Pas Envie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6302911) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> This sounds really angsty, but it's definitely worth a read (or, at least, the original fic definitely is). Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Most of the French and strange phrases said by Alex are direct quotes from the "I wrote my way out" poem that real-life Hamilton wrote about the hurricane. You can find a copy of it here: 
> 
> https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-01-02-0042
> 
> And yes, the title is from "Everything I Know".
> 
>  
> 
> (Translations for all the French are in the end notes)

John fished his key ring out of his pocket and fumbled for the right key to open the door. When it finally opened with a satisfying click, he sighed in relief. John had just gotten off from a 9-hour shift at the hospital where he was working as a nurse. He loved it to bits, and he wouldn’t dream of ever doing anything else, but it could be extremely exhausting sometimes.

 

“Alex?” he called.

 

No answer. Oh well, his fiancé must still be at work. He checked the clock- 10:45 in the morning. Right. Not everyone worked from one in morning to ten. Alex was definitely still at school. John allowed himself to feel momentarily jealous of Alex’s teaching job with its regular schedule and reliable hours, and then was filled with the memory of the frustration he felt whenever his father forced him to tutor his younger siblings and help them with their homework. Yeah, he would never make it as a teacher. Better be thankful for having to sew up someone’s skull hours before dawn.

 

He really was grateful for his job as a nurse. All he had ever wanted to do was help people, and he had a lifelong interest in biology (check his dozens of sketchbooks filled with anatomical sketches of turtles) and medicine. Just not on days like today. Today, all he wanted to do was sleep. And cuddle with Alex, but he’d have to make do with the couch cushions for now.

 

Still in his bright blue scrubs, he collapsed on the couch without even taking his shoes off, dragging a hand over his face. He stared at the ceiling, not thinking of anything in particular, all the brain power drained from his body.

 

He felt his phone begin to insistently vibrate in his pocket. He groaned in frustration, bemoaning the fact that his one moment of peace in this entire hectic day had been interrupted.

 

He squinted at the screen to see Eliza’s name glaring at him in bold letters. Why on earth would Eliza be calling him now? He had never felt fully relaxed around Eliza, as he knew she had carried a torch for Alex for years. But recently, they had gotten to talking and he had come to know what a compassionate and kind person she really was. She worked at the same school as Alex; wouldn’t they both be in class?

 

Ice filled his veins. There would only be one reason why Eliza would call him now.

 

With shaking fingers, he answered the call. “Eliza? What happened?”

 

Even through the tinny speaker of the phone, her worry was palpable. “It’s Alex. You need to come right now.”

 

He was on his feet instantly, grabbing his coat. “Why? What is it? Did Jefferson say something again? I swear to god I’ll kill him-”

 

“John!” Eliza shouted, “No one did anything. He started having a panic attack in the middle of class. I don’t know what happened, he won’t stop talking about the hurricane, you need to get here _now_.”

 

John felt the instinct to comfort her as she rambled, but he couldn’t with the fist he felt closing around his heart. He tried to tell her to calm down, that everything would be fine, but all he could get out was, “Leaving now. Help him. I need you to-” _To do what? You know she can’t do anything to help him when this happens._ “Just- please.” he choked out.

 

“Yeah,” said Eliza, sounding just as shaken up as he felt.

 

He threw open the door and took the stairs two at a time.

 

\---------

 

John ran. The car he owned completely slipped his mind, and he didn’t even feel the cold with his hastily zipped jacket, as his mind was filled only with _alex alex alex where is alex need to run need to get to alex need to help alex get alex now._ After what felt like an eternity, John reached the school Alex worked at. He threw the doors open and ran past the spluttering security guard at a full sprint, not caring what anyone thought of him. He silently cursed as he realized he had no idea where Alex’s classroom was. He turned down a hallway and skidded to a stop, finally seeing someone he recognized.

 

His chest heaving, he managed to shout, “Ange!” at the eldest Schuyler sister surrounded by kids, her brow pinched with worry.

 

She looked up and her expression cleared as soon as she saw him. “John, thank god.”

 

“Where-”

 

“Last door on the right.”

 

John nodded gratefully and ran in that direction, barely noticing all the kids that were staring at him like he had three heads.

 

John reached the door Angelica had indicated, and instead of bursting through, he hesitated. He knew there was nothing he could really do for Alex other than be there, but the knowledge that he couldn’t help didn’t make the guilt and the fear any less potent. He steeled himself and turned the knob.

 

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

 

Usually, when Alex fell into full panic mode, he became paralyzed, unable to move or even speak.

 

But Alex’s classroom was wrecked. Papers were scattered all over the floor, several desks had been knocked over; one poster had been entirely ripped from the wall. John caught sight of Eliza standing by Alex’s desk looking helpless to stop the storm.

 

On the other side of the room, Alex was pacing back and forth alongside the wall, hands moving feverishly. First they were clenched in a vice behind his back, then tearing through his hair, then gesticulating as if he were having a conversation, then covering his face in anguish and starting all over again.

 

“Alex?” John called out tentatively, one hand still on the door and not wanting to startle him.

 

Eliza looked over at John, her eyes screaming with worry. “John, I don’t think he can hear us.”

 

John slowly went over to where Alex was raging, and in between his fiancé’s ragged breaths he heard frantic mutterings. As John got closer, he caught snippets of what he was saying: “...sufficient….l'étonnement dans...dans...dans des anges....no, please….maman, ne me laissent pas…”

 

John didn’t want to startle Alex, but he knew he needed to get him back to the present. He hesitantly reached out to touch Alex’s arm, and when John’s fingertips brushed his sleeve, Alex jerked his head towards him, halting his pacing. John held onto Alex’s arm in an attempt to ground him. Tears streaked down Alex’s cheeks. His eyes were wide as saucers, filled with grief but darting around the room, never focusing on John’s face. Alex’s entire body was shaking.

 

“I…” Alex seemed to notice only that he was being restrained. He jerked his arm out of John’s grip, backing away from him and saying, “I can’t, I can’t, Je dois aller, Je dois courir-”

 

“Alex? Alex, it’s me, John.” he whispered, barely audible over Alex’s gasps. “Honey, please look at me.”

 

“John?” Alex managed to get out in between breaths, finally looking at him.

 

John smiled encouragingly, trying to mask the panic he himself was feeling.

 

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

 

Alex seemed to become more afraid, violently shaking his head. “Non, non, John, pas encore...Je ne veux pas…”

 

John cupped Alex’s face, his meager facade of stability quickly being replaced by anguish over the fact that he had no idea what his fiancé was saying. “Please, love, tell me,” he pleaded. “tell me in English, please, I want to know what’s going on.”

 

Alex gasped for breath. “I..I don’t want to see you die again.”

 

John’s heart broke. He felt tears matching Alex’s making their way down his cheeks. “Honey. Alex. Alex, I’m not going to die. I’m right here.” John took Alex’s hand and placed it against his own chest. “See?” he said, chuckling weakly. “My heart is beating. I’m ok. So are you. We’re both gonna be fine.”

 

Almost in a trance, Alex placed a hand on his own chest. He soon started clawing at it, like he was trying to get something out. “John, I don’t know what they did, someone put something in my chest, like, like, like an anvil, it _hurts_ -”

 

“I know sweetheart, it’s alright. No one did anything. That’s just the panic. It’ll go away soon. Just breathe. You’ll be alright, I’ve got you, I promise.”

 

“But...the fever...the hurricane...the-” The fog that had momentarily left Alex’s eyes was back again, and he kept pacing. “the total dissolution…the firey meteors, the prodigious glare of almost per- perpetual lightning, the...the...les terreurs de la nuit, misére dans toutes...ses formes les plus affreuses…”

 

John wracked his brain for any French he remembered from his years of knowing Alex and Lafayette. _Numbers._ He could do numbers. They were basically the same as the ones in Spanish. Right?

 

John stepped in front of Alex’s path. “Alex? Sweetheart, I want you to count with me, ok? Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq-”

 

Suddenly Alex grabbed both of John’s arms in a death grip. “What are you doing here?” he practically screamed at John, his voice now a strangled rasp. “You need to go, you need to leave, I need to get _out-”_

 

“You did get out, remember?” John said. “You wrote that poem, that fancy-ass poem that everyone couldn’t get enough of. You showed it to me the other day, when we were eating takeout, remember?”

 

But nothing seemed to spark any awareness in Alex. The only part of what John said that he seemed to have heard was the part about Alex writing his way off the island.

“I...I did. I wrote my way out.”

 

John felt an overwhelming sense of relief. This was the end of it. The worst was over. Alex was remembering just how far away that hurricane was.

 

“You did,” John smiled. “even though no one thought you would. You were smarter than them all, remember? You did everything you needed to, you got here, _you found me_.”

 

Alex was nodding to himself as he worked it out in his head. “Je écrit mon moyen de sortir, Je suis hors de là, Je suis hors, I’m out,” he muttered, until a wave of his anxiety gripped him again. “I’m out, I’m out of hope, I’m out of _time,_ John, _why won’t they stop screaming?”_

 

John was at a loss. At this point, he knew all he could do was hold his fiancé until it all passed. John wrapped his arms around Alex and held tight as his knees began to buckle and he slowly fell to the ground.

 

“It’s ok,” said John, speaking to Alex but making eye contact with Eliza on the other side of the room. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

 

\----------

 

They sat there on the floor for what felt like a very, very long time. Finally, Alex picked his head up from where it was shoved against John’s chest.

 

“John?” he said, his voice hoarse.

 

“Yeah, baby?”

 

“Why are we on the floor?”

 

John chuckled weakly.

 

Yeah, they were going to be fine.

 

\----------

 

When Alex was alright to stand and just wanted to go home, John helped him stand up. Even though the panic had drained away, Alex was still shaking.

 

“Here,” said John, wrapping his coat around his fiancé’s shoulders.

 

“John, I don’t need-”

 

“Take it.”

 

“....ok.”

 

Alex looked even smaller than usual. Yes, John’s jacket was huge on him, but Alex looked more defeated than John had ever seen. They began to walk down the hallway, hand in hand, when Alex suddenly stumbled.

 

“Woah!” said John, as he caught Alex, grunting under his weight.

 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be fine,” Alex said hurriedly, even though he could barely stand.

 

John knit his eyebrows in worry. He knew he could carry Alex if he needed him too. John’s fiancé was many things, but large was not one of them.

 

“Honey, do you want me to carry you?” John asked.

 

Alex scoffed. It was impressive that he managed to look indignant when he also looked like he had recently been run over by a truck. “No way. I’ll be fine.”

 

After a few steps with John supporting almost all of Alex’s weight with his arm wrapped around his shoulders, John asked, “Are you sure? Because I _can_ carry you, if you want.”

 

“Keep reminding me how small I am, why don’t you? But I can walk on my own, thank you very much.”

 

John knew Alex would never give up any point without a fight, but this was getting ridiculous.

 

“Alex…”

 

Alex looked at him pleadingly. “John…”

 

John lowered his voice. “Honey, it’s ok to need a little help. You know no one will think less of you.”

 

“ _I_ would.”

 

 _Let me have this,_ Alex’s expression seemed to say. John knew Alex had a deep sense of pride that was much more easily damaged than he let on. This wasn’t just about John carrying Alex; this was about Alex needing to regain faith in himself. John knew better than anyone just how hard Alex felt he needed to push himself to meet some insanely high standard of excellence. Sometimes it worked wonders, like when Alexander wrote groundbreaking articles that managed to change the way people thought about politics. Sometimes it was more bad than good, especially at times like this.

 

“I know, Alex.” John said in the softest voice he could. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I'd love if you left kudos, but I'd love even more if you left comments telling me what you liked/disliked! I will be adding the second chapter soon. 
> 
> \------
> 
> Translations:
> 
> l'étonnement dans...dans...dans des anges.... (astonishment into...into...into angels....) 
> 
> maman, ne me laissent pas (mama, don't leave me)
> 
> Je dois aller, Je dois courir (I need to go, I need to run)
> 
> Non, non, John, pas encore...Je ne veux pas… (No, no, John, not again...I don't want...)
> 
> les terreurs de la nuit, misére dans toutes...ses formes les plus affreuses… (the terrors of the night...misery in all its most hideous shapes...)
> 
> Je écrit mon moyen de sortir, Je suis hors de là, Je suis hors, (I wrote my way out, I'm out of there, I'm out,)


	2. Alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is considerably longer than the first, but it is much fluffier, I promise. This is from Alex's point of view and it explores what happened the day after the panic attack, as well as the day Alex returned to work.
> 
> I turned this into more of a character study than the original, as the plot isn't explored as much as Alex's relationship with John is explored.
> 
> Enjoy!

_...how different, how deplorable—how gloomy the prospect—death comes rushing on in triumph veiled in a mantle of ten-fold darkness. His unrelenting scythe, pointed and ready for the stroke-_

 

Alex’s eyes snapped open. He jolted up into a sitting position- or, at least, he tried to. He realized that there was a heavy weight pressing down on all his limbs, on his chest, and for a second he was filled with a sliver of the blind panic that had consumed him yesterday. As he blinked himself awake, he realized that the weight was in fact the bodies of his fiancé and his two friends, Laf and Herc, who could never seem to mind their own business. Alex couldn’t find it in him to care very much.

 

Alex lay there, peacefully content, until Laf let out a loud snore. Alex giggled to himself at the absurdity of it all.

 

He felt the weight on his right arm start to move around. He turned to see John blinking sleepily at him.

 

“G’morning, gorgeous.” murmured John.

 

Alex snorted.

 

“The day that I’m gorgeous is the day that you stop saying ‘y’all’ unironically,” he whispered.

 

John simply hummed and nuzzled his way further into Alex’s shoulder.

 

“Shit,” said Alex, suddenly remembering what day it was, “I have to get to school.”

 

Alex abruptly tried to sit up, succeeding this time, and dislodging everyone laying on top of him. Laf grumbled and rubbed their eyes as they were shoved into the nightstand. Herc, near the bottom of the bed, fell off with a thump.

 

“Mon ami, why the fuck are you awake right now?” asked Laf.

 

Alex staggered out of bed, almost tripping over Herc, and haphazardly started grabbing things that he would need at work. “I...I need to go to work, guys, I can’t miss it, my sophomores are taking a test on the Constitutional Convention today, and-”

 

Hercules got up off the floor, picked Alexander up, ignoring his indignant squawks, and plopped him back in the bed.

 

“Hey! Guys, seriously, I need to go!”

 

Laf got back on Alex’s left side and entwined their limbs together, shoving their face into Alex’s neck. “Non.”

 

“No, stop it, c’mon.” Alex whined petulantly.

 

John propped himself up on his elbows to look at Alex seriously. “Alex, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to go to work today. We definitely don’t want you to, and even if you did, there’s no telling what might happen.” Even though he was half asleep, John managed to gesture wildly as he spoke.

 

“But John-”

 

“Alex, you know as well as I do what your body goes through the day after a panic attack like that. You know we all get that. You’ve seen all of us get flashbacks and panic attacks and a whole host of other incapacitating shit.” John snuggled back into the bed. “Now, let us take care of you.”

 

Alex, of course, desperately wanted to argue his right to freedom from his friends’ snuggles, but realized he didn’t have enough fight left in him to do it. The part of his chest that yesterday had felt filled by an anvil trying to come out was now hollow, as if that imaginary anvil really did break its way out of his chest, leaving a big, aching space of nothing. He suddenly realized that after all his hurried movements around the room, he could feel the ache running through his whole body.

 

“Y’know, maybe I’ll stay here,” he said. “Just...just for a little while.”

 

Herc threw himself back onto where he had been laying on top of Alex’s legs.

 

“Don’t worry, little homie,” said Herc. “We’ve got your back.”

 

“And every other part of you as well,” snickered Laf.

 

Alex weakly smacked their arm, but he couldn’t stop the small smile spreading across his face.

 

They lounged around the apartment for the rest of the day, only moving to grab food or search for the remote. And as Alex lay there, surrounded by the people he loved, watching reruns of Doctor Who for the millionth time, he knew there was no place he’d rather be.

 

\--------

 

Around 11:30, Alex heard buzzing coming from the nightstand. He looked over to see his phone lighting up the dark room, the only source of light other than the television.

 

“Laf, can you pass me my phone?”

 

“Sure, mon ami.”

 

Alex took his phone to see words glaring at him from the screen:

 

 _7 New Messages_ from _Dearest Betsey_

 

He unlocked his phone and read the texts from Eliza:

 

(11:24 AM) Hey Alex, I hope you’re feeling better.

 

(11:24 AM) I just wanted to let you know that a bunch of your students were asking after you.

 

(11:25 AM) Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything important. I’d never put you in that position. And it’s not my business anyway.

 

(11:26 AM) I just thought you should know that they were worried about you. You really make an impression on them, Alex. They think you’re wonderful.

 

(11:26 AM) They won’t ask you a thing. I took the brunt of it, so the next time you come in it should be relatively easier. I just made sure they knew you didn’t have a heart attack (they actually asked me that lol)

 

(11:27 AM) Pegs and Ange send their love. I’m so glad you decided to take a break.

 

(11:32 AM) Don’t hesitate to call any of us for any reason. We’re here for you.

 

Alex knew Eliza was wonderful, and that she was doing all she could to help him, but he felt a burst of uneasiness when he thought about his students’ reactions. Alex was happy that Eliza cared about him so much, but it made him feel betrayed that she was talking about his- _yesterday_ with his students. He shoved that feeling down and texted her back:

 

_(11:37 AM) Thanks Betsey. You’re definitely the best of wives and best of women._

 

(11:38 AM) Not your wife, you dork. Love you.

 

_(11:38 AM) Love you too._

 

He passed his phone back to Laf and curled back into John’s chest. Alex was torn between wanting nothing more than to go into work and dreading having to confront the kids he had a panic attack in front of. _God, they must think I’m so stupid._

 

John looked down at him, sensing his internal conflict. He didn’t say anything, but kissed the top of his fiancé’s head and held him tight.

 

\--------

 

THE NEXT MORNING

 

_Oh sights of woe! Oh distress unspeakable!—my heart bleeds—but I have no power to solace!—_

 

_“Alex-”_

 

_...he who gave the winds to blow and the lightnings to rage—even him I have always loved and served..._

 

_“Alex, you’re dreaming.”_

 

_...look still a little further; see the gulf of eternal mystery open...there mayest thou shortly plunge —_

 

_“ALEX.”_

 

Alex realized someone was shaking him. “No- no, let me go-”

 

“Alex, look at me.”

 

He tore his eyes open to see John hovering over him, his hair sticking up from sleep and his eyes full of anguish.

 

“Oh, fuck,” said Alex. “Was I dreaming about it again?”

 

“Yeah, baby girl, you were.” John said, his lips curling up into a grimace. “It’s ok. You’re fine.”

 

John laid back down and wrapped his body back around his fiancé’s.

 

Alex let himself sink into the wonderfully comforting feeling of being held for a moment before he remembered.

 

“John, I have to go to work,” he said, valiantly attempting to get out of bed.

 

“Baby girl, you’re shaking.”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Alex said, tripping over the blankets as his feet touched the floor. “Really, I’m ok.”

 

John turned on the bedside lamp.

 

“Alex.”

 

Alex barely acknowledged John as he ripped his pajamas off and started putting on two different socks.

 

“Alex, honey, please look at me.”

 

Alex turned around to look at him with one foot in his jeans.

 

John rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and continued in a forced-sounding calm tone.

 

“If you really want to go to work today, I know I can’t stop you. But you can’t stop me from coming with you.”

 

Alex began to violently shake his head. He already didn’t know how to feel about the fact that John had taken off work the day before to look after him. The idea of John missing work a second day made him feel squeamish, like he was being given unreasonable praise he couldn’t bear.

 

“No,” said Alex firmly. “You need to go to work. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are right now.”

 

“Alex, I already called in, told them I had a family emergency. Which I do.”

 

Alex was frozen, distracted from his quest to go to work by the overwhelming feeling of confusion. John thought of Alex as his family? Your family included people who were tied to you for the rest of your life, whether you wanted them to be or not. More often that not, those ties caused anguish and torment and pain, especially as those you loved were torn from you, but... Alex had never associated any of those feelings with John.

 

When John smiled at him, he felt warmth spread through his chest. Alex would never admit it, but he had always felt extremely lonely whenever his friends talked about their families. He had always brushed it off, said that it was better not to be tied to anyone, as those ties would just keep him restrained, keep him from doing the things he wanted to do.

 

Alex knew that if anyone was truly tied to him, it would be like being tied to a hurricane. Anyone who loved him like that would undoubtedly get hurt as they tried to keep Alex chained down, tried to keep him safe from the storm inside his head by keeping him trapped.

 

But John wasn’t like that. Alex didn’t feel chained to John. He felt that their tie was the opposite; a beacon of hope and love to guide him through everything. Alex knew John’s love made him stronger, made him better, cleared his head and focused his mind.

 

Even though they were engaged, Alex had never thought that John felt the same way. People just didn’t love him like that. It didn’t happen.

 

“You….really?”

 

John put his head on his chin from where he was sitting in bed. “Of course.”

 

“I’m your-”

 

“Priority.”

 

“...family?”

 

John’s eyes widened. He got out of bed and crushed Alex into an excruciatingly tight hug.

 

John pulled back to look his fiancé in the eyes. “Of course you are, sweetheart.”

 

He cupped Alex’s face. “Of course you’re my family.” John swiped his thumb under Alex’s eye. Alex hadn’t even realized he was crying.

 

John kissed Alex softly and then sat back down on the bed.

 

“Now, here’s what we’re going to do. It’s 4 in the morning, but I know neither of us are getting back to sleep. However, you are going to get back in this bed. I’m going to make us actual food for breakfast. We’re going to chill out for a while, and when or if you feel up to it, we’ll head to your school. Ok?”

 

Alex sighed. He knew there was no arguing with John, and his stomach growled in agreement. “Ok, ok. Fine.”

 

\-----

 

A few hours later, when the sun finally came up, Alex was dragging John out of the house with one hand, a travel mug of coffee bigger than his head in the other. Walls more or less back in place, Alex was ready to face the day.

 

To keep his mind quiet, he was talking to John.

 

“So you know James Madison? That douchebag-who-wasn’t-always-a-douchebag? That guy who helped me write those essays a while back when Jay completely lost his shit and stopped contributing anything of worth? The guy who became Jefferson’s entourage within five seconds of meeting him just because they’re both from Virginia?”

 

John nodded sagely, extremely familiar with Alexander’s rants about Jefferson and his posse.

 

Alex continued his long-winded speech, his hand gestures getting so wide that he almost hit John in the face with his coffee several times.

 

“He works in the English department now so everyone thinks he’s the best grammar freak since the guy who wrote the goddamn Declaration of Independence. So GW wanted to write a letter to the PTA when he became principal, right? But while Washington is an amazing leader and an extremely competent administrator, he’s not the best at writing letters. So instead of going to me, like he should have, he goes to J-Mads. So Madison writes this nice little letter to the PTA on Washington’s behalf, but then guess what? The PTA asks Madison to write a letter _back_ to Washington on _their_ behalf. Why the fuck can’t anybody write their own letters? And I heard that this went on for like a whole-ass month, and Madison ended up writing like four or five letters _to himself._ Isn’t that insane? It really shows you how ridiculous all the bureaucratic bullshit is, all the pomp and circumstance boils down to one guy with a runny nose and a shitty best friend writing letters back and forth to himself because he doesn’t want anyone else to get upset and is secretly pushing his own agenda-”

 

“Alex, honey, we need to get in the car now.”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

\------

 

As they made their way into the building, Alex was surprised to see that people were shooting John much weirder looks than they were shooting him. The security guard actually choked on his coffee. He stood up abruptly as if to confront John, saw Alex, and just deflated, looking extremely confused.

 

“John, why are all these people looking at you like you’re a serial killer?” Alex asked.

 

John scratched the back of his neck. “I may have run past all of them like a lunatic in my scrubs trying to get to you the other day.”

 

Alex chuckled.

 

Alex’s first three classes were on the other side of the building. _Thank fuck for that,_ he thought. He wouldn’t have to confront the room of his breakdown until fourth period. Hopefully he’d be feeling much more mentally stable by then. John kissed him goodbye and went to go camp out in the teacher’s lounge, coming back to visit in between every class.

 

Unfortunately, Alex’s first few classes did not go smoothly.

 

“Mr. Hamilton?” asked a tall Freshman girl who sat in the front of the room during first period.

 

“Yes?” replied Alex, voice weary.

 

“Why weren’t you in yesterday?”

 

It was like a dam breaking. It seemed like every kid was calling something out:

 

“Didn’t you leave early the day before, too?”

“You _never_ do that.”

“The kids in your fourth period class were saying you had a heart attack!”

“I heard it was a stroke!”

“Was it your fiancée? Did something happen to her?”

 

Alex banged his hand on the desk. “Hey! Everyone quiet down.”

 

“But what _happened_ to you?”

“Oh my god, Julie, do you see how his hands are shaking?”

“I bet he _did_ have a heart attack and just didn’t go to the hospital because he can’t afford it.”

“I heard there was a death in his family and he found out in class!”

 

Alex tried to make his ponytail tighter, but the rubber band snapped under his fingers. He could feel the panic rising again.

 

 _...what is become of thine arrogance and self sufficiency? Why dost thou tremble and stand aghast? How humble, how helpless, how contemptible you now appear_ -

 

He shoved the thoughts down deep as they would go and yelled, “Enough! I think we need a refresher of the teacher-student confidentiality agreement, the one that _all_ of you signed at the beginning of the year.”

 

With shaking fingers he turned on the projector and pulled up the school’s website. He clicked on the Student Handbook and pulled up the confidentiality contract.

 

He cleared his throat and said, “Confidential information means, whether or not in a material form and whether disclosed before or after the date of this agreement, any information of whatever kind disclosed or revealed….”

 

\------

 

To say second and third period were not better, Alex thought, would be the understatement of the century.

 

\-------

Alex didn’t share any of this with John. _I’ll tell him later,_ he thought. Right now Alex just wanted to talk until his mind got a little quieter, to enjoy the smile caressing John’s lips.

 

The two of them made their way to Alex’s main classroom for his fourth period class. This was the class Alex had had the attack in front of, and the last thing he wanted to do was confront them about it.

 

“So remember how me and Madison used to be friends? They guy is actually really fucking intelligent, and we had a great time writing those papers together. Then all of a sudden when we’re in the same room as Jefferson, he tells me, ‘y’know, Alex, you’re really starting to get on my nerves.’ Like what the fuck? I was completely shocked, not that Madison was annoyed with me, because I get that part, but he totally changed his entire attitude when he saw fucking Jefferson! The guy is all nice up until we’re within earshot of Satan incarnate, his best friend, and-” Alex cut himself off when he saw Eliza out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Oh, hey Betsey!” said Alex, lifting a hand to wave at Eliza.

 

“That’s not my name, Alex.” grinned Eliza. “Hey John, are you going to stick around today?”

 

“Yup,” said John, hefting his backpack on his shoulder. “Brought lots of work with me. You can never run out of paperwork when you work in a hospital.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” said Eliza. “Not the paperwork part, but I’m glad you’re here today.”

 

A student called for her inside her classroom. “I’ve got to go. I really am glad the two of you are here today.”

 

Alex smiled at her with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Me too, Betsey. Good luck with your kids.”

 

Alex continued his story as they made their way down the hallway.

 

“So the other day I’m in that Starbucks down the street, you know that one, John? And I’m having a coffee with Laf, who I rant to all the time about Madison, and guess who walks in? Madison, without Jefferson for once. And for the first time in _months,_ he comes over to me, says hello, and strikes up this whole pleasant conversation about school.”

 

They turned the corner of Alex’s classroom, and Alex kept talking so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the gaggle of kids crowded around his door just yet.

 

“So then I turn to Laf, and I’m like ‘what a two-faced jackass,’ and Laf turns to me, dead serious, and asks- and I quote- ‘what does that mean, two-faced?’”

 

John nodded sagely, extremely familiar with Laf hiding the fact that they don’t understand a word or phrase until it’s way, way too awkward to ask.

 

Alexander took a long gulp of coffee to steel himself as he got closer to the kids. “And I’m like, ‘what,’ because I’ve been calling Madison two-faced for years, and most of the times Laf was present, and it never once occurred to them to ask what it means? I mean, how does one wait years- hey kids,” Alex said, when he got too close to ignore them any longer. Alex felt around for the keys to his room in his pocket. “one sec- years to ask about a word that has literally been the entire subject of most of my Madison rants?”

 

“French people,” John said, shaking his head. And honestly, that was the only explanation necessary.

 

“Exactly,” said Alex, as he finally found the right key and slid it into the lock. “Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve got a class to teach.”

 

John stepped toward Alex as if to kiss him, but then remembered where they were and smiled instead. Alex grimaced internally. A kiss from John would’ve been a wonderful way to feel more relaxed. But Alex knew how uncomfortable John was with public displays of affection, especially after growing up with an extremely homophobic father, so he let it go.

 

“Bye, Alex,” said John, as he started to walk back the way they had come.

 

Alex pushed the door open. The kids all stared at him as if waiting for something, so he banged his coffee mug against the door frame. “Allez-y, rentrez!”

 

Alex sat down opened his lesson plan book to see the story that had triggered him the day before. _No no no no no no no no-_

 

Alex flipped to a new page and started a completely different lesson. He was sure the kids wouldn’t notice; the barely paid attention to what he said, anyway.

 

Alex felt like he was holding his breath the entire class, waiting for someone to ask him _what’s wrong what happened why do you look like that why are your hands shaking_. Every time someone raised their hand his breath caught in his throat. But the question never came. When the bell rang signaling the end of class, he couldn’t hide his sigh of relief.

 

“Have a good night, guys,” he called to the quickly-leaving kids, finally collapsing at his desk when the door was closed.

 

Alex heard a tentative knock on the door. He sat up straight and steeled himself for another grueling interaction with a student.

 

“Come in,” he answered, a forced smile on his face.

 

John poked his head in, and Alex sighed in relief, his whole body relaxing.

 

“Oh, thank god.”

 

John grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

 

Alex shook his head, not wanting to worry him. “No, no, it wasn’t that bad, really.”

 

John sat down on Alex’s desk so they were next to each other, his eyebrows creased in worry. “I can tell when you’re lying, Alex.”

 

“I’m not lying, John, it wasn’t _too_ bad today.” And it truly wasn’t. Alex had suffered through much worse all on his own. Knowing John was in the next room had given him a sense of security throughout the day. “Having you here was- nice.”

 

John smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but Alex couldn’t stop himself.

 

“I mean- none of my older kids asked anything about the other day, which was, to be honest, a little bizarre, because you’d think that they’d be the most curious since they were _there_ , but thank fuck they didn’t. But-” Alex forced himself to stop talking. Upsetting John wouldn’t do anyone any good. This was his own burden to bear, and nothing that bad had even happened, anyway. Everything that happened today was all stuff normal people were able to handle.

 

But John knew Alex too well. He moved closer, his smile faded.

 

“But?” John prompted.

 

Alex couldn’t hold it back any longer.

 

“A bunch of my first and second period students asked,” he said, running his hands through his hair, “and even more during third, and. I don’t know. There was no way in all of hell that I was gonna tell them the truth but I wasn’t gonna dodge their questions with a lie, either, because everyone knows that that’s just asking for fucking Jefferson to take it and spin a story out of it, so every time one of them asked I just pulled up the teacher-student confidentiality regulation from the school website on the projector and read it out for them word for word, which I know was kind of a dick move, but really, what else could I have done, because-”

 

“Alex,” John said gently. Alex faintly heard him but couldn’t reply, too caught up in his train of thought and worry and fear.

 

“I mean, it’s not as if I could- could just fucking tell them the _truth_ , can you imagine? Yeah, kids I just had a panic attack in the middle of class- oh yeah, no big deal, I’m just so fucking mentally unstable that I can’t even give a lesson on some random teen’s town getting destroyed by a hurricane without getting _flashbacks_ , but seriously don’t worry about it.”

 

By the end, Alex’s voice had lost all semblance of stability. He could feel the tightness of a lump in his throat and his eyes were smarting with tears.

 

John gently reached out to take his hands in his own. Alex stared at their entwined hands before slowly looking up to look John in the eye.

 

“Baby girl, you know the fact that you get panic attacks is not your fault. Honestly. I’m so fucking proud that you even went back to school today, God knows if I were you I would’ve gone home and punched a wall and broke my hand..again.”

 

Alex releases one of John’s hands to drag it down his face. “I know. But it’s, God, it’s so damn _frustrating_ , I thought I was past all this, I haven’t had a flashback in ages, and now this happens- and at work of all places,” Alex clenched his hands into fists as he felt the urge to rage and destroy, anything to quiet the raging going on inside of him. “Fuck, maybe I will punch something.”

 

“Not a wall,” said John, in a valiant attempt at humor. “I can tell you from experience that it’s not worth it.”

 

John tilted Alex’s chin up so he could look him squarely in the eye. “Hey,” he said softly, “You and I both know...this shit happens, and yeah, it sucks, but you’ll get through this, Alex, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. And, I mean, you’ve got a stunningly attractive and equally fucked up fiancé right here with you.”

 

Even in the mental state he was in, Alex managed a tired-sounding laugh. God, he loved this man. Alex didn’t know what he had ever done in his life to deserve someone like John, but he’d gladly suffer panic attacks and flashbacks and whatever the hell else the world decided to throw at him if it meant he could keep John by his side.

 

Alex pulled John’s head down to kiss him, and they stayed like that until all of Alex’s thoughts were replaced by one, singular, beautiful word: _John_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I look up "parent-teacher confidentiality agreement" so that I could quote from one? Damn right I did.
> 
> Again, all of the old-english and fancy phrases are from the letter real-life Alexander Hamilton wrote about the hurricane that ravaged his island. I like to think of the lines from this letter as a representation of Hamilton's bad thoughts, as well as a play on the line between nightmare and reality. When Alex has nightmares or begins to be consumed with anxiety, is it misinformation creeping into his thoughts, or is it truth?
> 
> That's the end!
> 
> Please leave kudos/comments to tell me what you thought, and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> (A final note: the story about Madison writing four or five letters to himself on the behalf of other people? That actually happened. Just switch out the PTA for Congress.)


End file.
